


Spring Field

by Squishychickies



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Damian Wayne Loves Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishychickies/pseuds/Squishychickies
Summary: Damian takes a stand against the expectations of society!He goes against the norms and standards enforced by his ignorant, small-minded peers.He refuses to wear deodorant.Dick will doanythingto change his mind. There's only so much more he can take.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 154





	Spring Field

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is a phase so many kids go through and Damian absolutely would too

“Damian,” Dick begins, clasping his hands together bracingly, “I think it’s time we had a talk.”

“I already know what this is,” Damian informs him haughtily. He crosses his arms grumpily, scrunches his nose, and completes the expression with an absolutely exasperated eyeroll. “Father and I have already had this discussion.”

“Oh,” Dick says, surprised. Clearly, if Damian has already had this chat, it hasn’t been all that effective. He might need to approach it from a different angle. “And what did Bruce say?”

“Father covered all of the bases quite thoroughly,” Damian assures him with a serious nod. “I have an excellent understanding now of reproductive activities. The man’s penis--”   


“DAMIAN, NO!” Dick splutters, face turning red with absolute horror. He lunges across the bed as if to grab Damian and physically protect him from this embarrassment, but thinks better of it halfway through and launches himself the other direction in an abortive escape attempt. He waves his hands around wildly in some sort of wordless attempt to articulate his dismay. “Not that kind of chat! Not that kind of chat!”

They’re seated in Damian’s room, both on the edge of his bed facing the window. The light of mid-afternoon streams in through the curtains, illuminating the little particles of wispy dust that float through the air. Damian’s houseplants sit in the window, soaking up the sunlight, and Titus enjoys it as well, curled up in his dog bed. A peaceful, pretty day by all accounts.

Visually, that is. Because there is something invisible, haunting Dick. Something imperceivable by the eyes--

But absolutely unignorable by Dick’s poor, poor nose. And he’d tried! For three long weeks he’d denied the truth. Perhaps Damian had just been working extra hard that day. Or maybe he forgot a shower after patrol, because it had been a long night. Maybe it wasn’t even Damian, and the odor that clung to him like a spiderweb was just a coincidence.

Now, though, sitting two feet from Damian in his room, the truth was undeniable. Damian smelled.  _ Badly.  _

“Oh,” Damian says, eyebrows rising in mild surprise. “Well, alright then. What is the nature of the discussion, in that case?”

Dick breathes out in relief. He’s actually been wondering if Bruce would handle the sex talk, or if that would fall onto Dick’s own shoulders. He’s unspeakably glad that it hasn’t. “Well, I suppose it’s sort of in the same category,” he allows, tilting his head in thought. “Sort of. Puberty, Damian. It’s a thing. A thing you are currently experiencing.”

Damian raises one single, scornful eyebrow. “I had noticed, Richard.”

Dick swallows awkwardly and nods. “Okay, yes, well, I’m sure Bruce covered some of these topics in his chat. But--okay, with puberty, your body kind of goes wild on you. Everything sort of. Loses its mind and nothing makes sense anymore, and it’s like literally everything your body does is designed to embarrass you. Right?”

“I feel no embarrassment,” Damian asserts with his nose in the air. He pauses and wrinkles his nose. “Perhaps. There was a time last week when--” He stops, mouth open, and then seems to reconsider, blushing. “Well. You said it was not that kind of discussion.”

Dick has to work very hard at schooling his face into brotherly concern and nearly bursts a blood vessel trying not to laugh. It’s pretty funny to think about, but also if he doesn’t laugh about it, he might cry, both from second-hand embarrassment and the idea of his baby brother growing up. “No it is not,” Dick confirms, clapping his hands together. “If you ever want to come to me for that sort of thing you can, of course, but--yeah. Anyways. One of these instances is body odor. Have you noticed, after you work out or go on patrol or whatever, that you smell different? Unpleasantly different?”

Staring Dick dead in the eyes, Damian lifts one arm and breathes in deeply through his nose. Even the simple motion of it makes Dick’s own nose want to cry in sympathy, or perhaps just jump off a very high building and die.

Dead serious, Damian says, “I smell nothing.”

“Whether or not that’s the case,” Dick chokes out, trying his very best not to breathe, “I have a present for you.”

From his pocket he produces a stick of deodorant and throws it at Damian. Damian catches it in the hand of the arm he had raised, still staring Dick dead in the eyes. He grips the little plastic stick so hard, Dick worries it might disintegrate between his angry fingers. “What are you implying?” asks Damian.

_ That you smell worse than death,  _ thinks Dick.

“That you might find it handy,” says Dick. “Humor me. Give it a try.”

“Thank you, Richard,” says Damian, but the words are clearly a dismissal. He’s not saying,  _ thanks for the awesome deodorant that I will use every single day!  _ He’s saying,  _ please leave my room before I throw it at you with intent to take out an eyeball.  _ “If that will be all.”

Dick slaps his knees decisively and stands. “That’s all,” he confirms. “Later, Li’l D.”

He closes the door behind him and breathes in the fresh scent of air that isn’t completely permeated in the otherworldly odor of a pubescent teenage boy. Sweet, sweet, relief. He’s finally safe.

\---

Nowhere is safe. Damian seems to have taken Dick’s helpful gift as a personal challenge, and has risen to the occasion spectacularly by making a point of smelling more rancid than ever before. Tears rise to his eyes when he meets Damian in the Cave to patrol one night.

“Damian,” he chokes, “when was the last time you  _ showered?”  _

“I don’t smell anything,” offers Jason nonchalantly, flicking Dick in the forehead. He’s in full uniform, which includes the helmet that blocks smell.

Dick scowls and steps away. “Take off your helmet.”

Jason stumbles back five steps immediately and holds his hands up in front of himself defensively. “No can do.”

Dick holds out a hand at him, exasperated. “My point exactly.”

Damian sniffs daintily and crosses his arms, turning away from Dick. “I don’t know what you are implying, Richard, but I do not like it.”

Dick wants to facepalm. Instead, he takes several steps away from Damian, because really, he has enough self-respect not to torture himself by having to inhale eau de teenage boy for even a second longer than he has to. “Have you tried the deodorant I gave you?”

“I lost it,” Damian informs him in the tone of voice that suggests he’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s lying his pants off.

\---

Dick is even more appalled when Jason takes Damian’s side. His big, smell-blocking helmet allows him to remain in Damian’s presence without wanting to spray Febreeze directly up his own nostrils, and if there’s one thing Jason loves, it’s annoying Dick for small, dumb, reasons.

“Respect, little dude,” Dick hears Jason say one day when he and Damian are seated on a rooftop. He offers Damian a rare fist bump. “You’re taking a stand. Proving a point. I respect that.”

Damian accepts the fist bump very primly. “Thank you, Todd,” he says, nodding seriously. “I hardly think the way I smell is any of Grayson’s concern. I am defying societal standards and acting against the accepted norms.”

Jason barks out a surprised laugh. “You keep doing that,” he approves, sounding horribly, horribly proud. 

Dick hates them both. He really, really does. 

\---

If Damian rises to Dick’s challenge by turning his nose up at hygiene of any kind, Dick ups the ante by hiding sticks of deodorant anywhere he can possibly fit them. He buys them by the dozen at Costco, in all sorts of appealing different smells, and keeps at least three on him at all times.

Doing homework in Damian’s room?

“Wow, Dami, what’s that on your desk? Deodorant? Wow, it’s Cool Cucumber scented! Don’t you just want to give it a try?”

“I dislike cucumbers.”

Out on patrol?

“Damian, what’s that in that villain’s pocket? Next to the gun, I mean. Deodorant? Woah, villains use it too! Don’t you want to hop on that train? All aboard, am I right?”

“I hardly think we should be following the examples of criminals, Richard. You should know better.”

In the Batcave?

“Damian, could you grab something for me? Next to my grapnel. Yeah, that’s it. The deodorant. I have to use it because I enjoy hygiene, cleanliness, and smelling like--” he checks the label, “--Eucalyptus Breeze.”

“Good for you, Richard. I respect the decision you have made regarding your own body.”

“So will you give it a try?”

“No.”

\---

Nothing he tries is working. The problem is escalating. Dick doesn’t know what to do.

The only person who can stand to be within six feet of Damian now is Jason, and while that’s really adorable and all, he can’t justify sentencing his brother to a life of solitude bar the Red Hood. And that’s really where he’s headed, at this rate. Damian smells bad. Like, really bad.

The worst part is that everyone blames Dick! Tim gave him a very pointed look the other day that suggested,  _ you better fix this mess you made. _ Bruce had just seemed bewildered, like,  _ I thought you knew what you were doing! _

Dick had thought so, too! But nothing he tries works.

Perhaps it’s time to try things from a new angle.

The idea he goes with is actually Jason’s suggestion. Surprising, yes, but Jason does occasionally have good ideas that don’t involve murder, and at this point, Dick’s pretty out of options.

“What motivates Damian?” Jason prompts, reclining on Dick’s sofa, taking up the entire thing for himself. Dick would be annoyed, but he doesn’t need the sofa anyways, right now. He’s too busy pacing back and forth.

“Bruce’s respect?” he tries. “Justice? Animals?”

“Something you can  _ use _ ,” Jason corrects.

Dick snaps his fingers in realization and halts in his steps. “Being better than Tim!”

“There you go!” Jason agrees, grinning.

Dick could practically kiss him. “It’s perfect! Thank you! You’re my hero!”

“Feel free to tell me all about that,” Jason invites, but Dick is already halfway out the window. “Hey, wait,” he protests, sitting up. “Where are you going?”

“Finding Damian!” Dick exclaims. He jumps fully out the window and grapples to the next building over. “I’ll see you on the other side!”

Jason stares after his retreating form and facepalms.

\---

When Dick arrives at the manor, Damian is getting ready for bed after a pretty uneventful patrol. He’s showered (without soap, Dick notices mournfully) and is in a soft pair of sweatpants. His face lights up when he sees Dick, though he tries to disguise it as disinterested annoyance.

“Richard,” he greets, arms folded over his chest. “Do come in.”

Feeling like he’s been formally invited to an important event, Dick accepts the invitation into Damian’s room.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Damian asks, sounding like he highly doubts this will be anything but.

“Just wanted to see you,” Dick explains, making himself at home on Damian’s bed atop the covers. He lounges back against a pillow, hands beneath his head. “Missin’ my little brothers.”

Damian wrinkles his nose. “So you’re here for Drake as well,” he notices.

“Of course,” Dick agrees. “I love Tim. So smart and driven, and always fun to hang out with.”

Damian harrumphs in annoyance, perching on the edge of his ergonomic spinning office chair. “I cannot see why you would hang out with Drake instead of me,” he complains.

“Well--don’t get me wrong, I love you too, Dami. But Tim--he uses deodorant.”

Damian’s eyebrows begin to rise. “He does?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dick agrees easily, even though it isn’t really always the case. Tim’s use of deodorant is--sporadic, at best. God, this family. At least Jason wears it, usually. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t. “Tim loves deodorant.”

“Does he really?” Damian asks, leaning forward. He’s beginning to sound concerned.

“Every single day,” Dick confirms lightly. “He’s obsessed with it. It hasn’t worn off for a minute before he’s applying more, every single time. That kid smells like a spring field of flowers.”

“This is--enlightening,” Damian says, sounding like his world is being turned upside-down and he doesn’t quite know what to think of it. “I--never knew this before.”

“I don’t know how you didn’t notice,” Dick tells him. “Gotta love a guy who knows his way around a stick of deodorant, you know what I mean?”

Damian looks mystified. “I suppose so,” he agrees, voice quiet in a way Dick hasn’t heard it in a while. “You don’t--you don’t happen to have any with you at the moment, do you, Richard?”

“Who, me?” asks Dick, patting down his pockets. “Well, I don’t keep nearly as much with me as Tim does, but I’m sure I--yep, here it is! A spare deodorant, just for you. If you want it, of course.”

Damian snatches it out of his hands.

\---

Dick stays the night because he’s too lazy to drive all the way home. He’s at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee and a bowl of dry cereal by seven in the morning, sharp.

When Damian comes down the stairs, through the hallway, and into the dining room, Dick takes a careful, subtle, sniff.

He could almost faint with the relief. Damian smells like Cool Cucumber. And--wait--is that Eucalyptus Breeze? He’s mixed and matched! Maybe even applied two layers! Damian smells fresher than a field of daisies after a rejuvenating, spring rain.

Dick has never been more proud in his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> lol ty for reading my friends <3


End file.
